Plans
by MistWraith
Summary: Complete. What was the Demon REALLY after? A tag for Born Under a Bad Sign. Please R&R.


**Disclaimer:** The Demon wants them, the hunters want them, the FBI wants them and _I_ want them. But only Erick Kripke and WB actually owns them.

**A/N**: Just a "what if" tag to "Born Under a Bad Sign". Something Meg!Sam said, along with wondering why some of what we've seen doesn't seem to make any sense. Please read and review.

**PLANS**

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The flashing neon sigh, standing at the roadside edge of the motel parking lot and advertising vacancies at the Settle Inn, formed a repeating pattern of colored light on the far wall of the room the Winchester brothers had collapsed in after leaving Bobby's place. Sam found himself mesmerized by the shifting colors.

Or maybe it just gave him a reason not to think.

There was a soft groan from one of the double beds in the room and Sam shook himself slightly then glanced over at his brother. Dean had been exhausted by the time they had arrived at the motel, not surprising since he had insisted on driving one-armed all the way from the body shop despite a hole in his shoulder, loss of blood, having a dip in pretty cold water and, oh yeah, being whaled on by his 6'5" demon-possessed brother. _Though the verbal whaling probably hurt the most_.

He had not told his brother how much he really _did_ remember, how much Meg had _let_ him see, the better to torment him with. Sam wondered if Meg had learned Dean's weak spots from Sam's own mind or from some demon grapevine, since the yellow-eyed bastard had known back there at the cabin in Missouri. Either way, she/it had used it to further batter the already-damaged Dean.

It had been hard enough to get Dean to stop _hovering_ all through the ride and after they got to the room, in spite of Dean's own injuries and exhaustion. Sam was sorry now he had admitted to as much as he had in the car; if he had let Dean know that he had been "awake" for even more of the week, his brother would have drowned him in an ocean of concern.

For his own part, Dean had brushed off any attempt by Sam to apologize.

"Wasn't you, Sammy," Dean had said gruffly.

His brother had also brushed off any attempt to get a better look at how Dean's physical injuries were doing—Sam had not been crazy enough to even _try_ to find out if Dean was running a temperature but he had tried to check out the bullet wound.

"Stop being such a girl, Samantha," Dean had said, equally gruffly.

Tired as he was, Sam still did not want to try to sleep, afraid deep down inside that he would find it really was only a dream and he was still trapped by that damn bitch, still a prisoner in his own mind and body, while she made him--. _No!_ He pushed the thoughts away, pushed the horror away. _This_ was no dream, it was reality. He was free. Bobby and Dean had rescued him.

Sam fingered the charm the older man had given him and it brought some small measure of peace. Whatever else may come, neither Meg nor any other demon would ever gain possession of him again. A shudder worked its way through him. He had never realized before how terrible a fate it was, to be some demon's cattle. He remembered his lack of concern, back at the cabin in Missouri, about the fate of Meg's "brother". While Dean had struggled with the fact that the host had been innocent, he himself had only seen that there had been no choice and he had not beaten himself up over it.

Now, he uttered a silent prayer of forgiveness for his indifference. He would never again take a host's fate lightly.

The charm was not the only thing that was helping him. Dean had made it clear that he _would_ find a way to save his baby brother and, for the first time, Sam really felt that Dean could do it. Dean had carried the family all these years; he had taken blow after blow and stayed upright and moving forward. Sam should never have doubted Dean's ability to carry his younger brother over this hurdle as well. There would be no more chasing after some anonymous "higher power" to run interference for him; he trusted Dean to find a way to wreck the Demon's plans.

Plans. What the hell did the Demon want with him? Sam continued to roll the charm around as he tried to put together what had happened over the last year-and-one-half, tried to form some coherent plan from the bits and pieces. And then there was Meg, who was still out there, pissed at Dean and seeking revenge.

Abruptly, Sam sat up in the chair. Something.…The Demon kept saying it had plans for Sam and the other psychic kids—so far, there had been no indication that the Demon wanted Sam more than, or for something different from, the others—and that it had killed Mary Winchester and Jessica Moore because they were getting in the way of those plans. Yet, the evil son-of-a-bitch had been consistently unconcerned about doing things that could have killed Sam: if Dean had not been there, Sam would have died in the same fire that took Jess; Meg had promised that the daevas would kill him as well as Dean and their Dad; the Demon's "boy" was definitely trying to splatter Sam's brains all over the street; a semi doing sixty was just as likely to kill Sam as the Impala's other passengers; if he had not been immune to the virus, it would have destroyed him—and if Dean had not refused to shoot him when everyone else urged him to, Sam would have been dead, immune or not.

Meg pushed and taunted Dean to take Sam down. If Dean had believed that Sam had gone darkside—instead of being possessed—and had honored his promise, Sam would not be sitting here worrying about it all.

And come to think of it, why would Meg possess _him_ and not Dean? It was Dean she wanted to torment—she had even said that she wanted to do it for a long time—how would killing Dean there at Bobby's have accomplished that? If she had possessed Dean instead, then she could have tormented him for years, forcing him to harm innocents. Forcing him to kill his _brother_. Yet, she had not done that. Why?

Sam came to his feet and began to pace silently. He stopped when Dean shifted and moaned softly again, but his brother was still fast asleep. Sam went back to worrying the problem in his mind, a frown on his face. Yes, Meg had said she did not care about the "grand plan", but demons _lie_, damn it, and her actions, in hindsight, made no sense. She should have taken Dean as a host, if she were really out to get the older Winchester.

It made equally little sense for the Demon to leave Dean alive all this time. If his mother and girlfriend had been in the way of the Demon's plans, how much more of a spanner in the works was Dean? Yet, Dean remained breathing _and_ un-possessed.

What had Meg said? That this was a _test_ of whether Dean could be pushed to kill his brother. Sam blinked, a mental "Eureka" sounding in his head. Maybe it was _not_ that Sam was all that important to the plan—sure, he was one of the kids and if he fell in line and joined the Demon's army, so much the better, but it was not imperative that he be part of it—maybe what _was_ important was whether or not Dean could be brought to the point of killing.

Sam started pacing again. What would that accomplish? That answer was easy: It would _destroy_ Dean. They seemed to keep trying to do that: The Demon had told Dean how unimportant Dean was; its "daughter" had just said the same thing. As if they were trying to break his brother, make him give up because he thught he was unequal to the task, make him walk away from the fight.

He could hear Meg's/his voice in his head: _They would have been better off without you._

Suddenly, Sam was wondering if, maybe, it was _Hell_ that would be better of without Dean.


End file.
